


She Kept Me Here

by februarystars



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mild Language, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:44:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/februarystars/pseuds/februarystars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-movie, Eight months after leaving, Arthur returns to Ariadne a little more broken and a little more whole. Rating for language, implied funtimes and to be safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leaning

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing! This was filled for this prompt: "all I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid." I didn't realise it was a song lyric until it was too late to incorporate the song. Anyway, I hope you like it!

She is making coffee as quietly as she can in the early morning stillness of her apartment when it happens.

"Are you there?" is almost a scream as he sits bolt upright in bed, his unseeing eyes wide with fear. She is back in the bedroom as he says, "I can't feel you. Are you there?" He is gasping for air as she kneels on the bed, trying to hold every part of him together with her arms.

"I'm here, I'm here, you're safe, it was just a dream, you're safe, Arthur. You're with me," she repeats the words again and again and holds on as tightly as she can. She wonders if he is even capable of dreaming anymore but everything falls away as she finally feels his arms wrap around her.

For a moment they are still and she tries to say so very many things to him through her skin on his bare chest and her lips on his forehead. When he finally relaxes against her, her relief is almost palpable. Immediately he draws back.

"Oh God, Ariadne, I'm sorry. I don't know - " he begins and stops, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Don't you dare," she says. She, too, pulls away and is soon off the bed.

"I'm making coffee and you're going to have a nice, long shower in my lovely, new bathroom. Everything is where you'd expect it to be. I'll be on the balcony when you're ready." She tries to sound matter-of-fact, as though she entertains clearly distraught men every morning.

He says nothing.

"Arthur?" her voice is a little menacing and if not for the terrible expression on his face, she might be tempted to laugh.  _I sound just like my mother._

He nods.

She turns to leave and hears a choked "Ariadne?"

She looks back at him, for the first time meeting his eyes. He looks a little abashed.

"Thank you."

*

The walls are up and the suit immaculate when he joins her half an hour later.

He surveys the balcony as he steps out onto it. She is tucked into a chair with a tray and coffee press in front of her, a dog-eared copy of something by Coleridge in her hand. She hasn't changed out of her pajamas and he remembers the bathroom is attached to her bedroom. She'd given him time and privacy and he wants to say thank you but the words don't come.

She greets him with a hug which he holds onto rather longer than she expects. He releases her with a smile that almost doesn't look forced. He pours the coffee and turns to face the gorgeous cityscape. She stands beside him, leaning into his body. They stay this way, he unwilling to move away from her small warmth and she nearly unable to believe that he is finally here. It is not a dream.

"You know," he says after a while, "you don't have to fix everybody."

"Who said I wanted to fix anyone?" she asks airily, thinking that he means to shut her out.

He raises an eyebrow and smirks, finally turning to look at her. "Oh, I don't know. A mutual friend might have mentioned something."

She laughs.

"How is he doing, anyway?" she asks.

"Alarmingly normal. Gives me the creeps, truth be told," he says.

"Normalcy?" Her confused expression as she asks this makes him suppress a laugh.

"No, Cobb being happy again. I hardly know what to talk to him about anymore."

He smiles again but it fades quickly. She reaches into the space that has formed between them and takes his hand into hers. He sighs. Of everything he's done and said in the past 24 hours, there is one thing he cannot put off talking about.

"About last night," he begins and she turns sharply to face him.

"Shut up," she says. He is taken aback.

"What?"

"Whatever it is that you're going to say is only going to ruin a perfectly enjoyable night," she says, placing her hands on the flat expanse of his chest.

"At least," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "I enjoyed it."

"Ariadne - you know - that's not - I just," and he gives up. The coffee cup is balanced precariously on the balcony's ledge and he gives in. He kisses her then and clings to her, his strongest tie to this world.


	2. Waiting

One Year Earlier

"I want to stay with you."  _It was worth a shot_.

Her smile was incandescent.

"I would love you to stay with me."  _I would love you no matter what._

Eight Months Earlier

"I don't know how long it's going to take but I promise you, I will come back," he pleads with her to understand.  _Of course she understands, she is his Ariadne._

Her smile was sad.

"And I promise, I will wait for you."  _Just come back to me_.

Throughout

They write letters, long and sometimes ridiculous. He aches for the sound of her voice but it cannot be helped.

Then the letters stop. She is frantic and calls everyone, calls in every favour. It is Cobb who says, tersely, "He is alive but he doesn't want to talk about it. He needs time and I'll do the best I can. Just keep waiting if you can."

So she waits, more a Penelope than an Ariadne. She is strong. She waits.

Until last night. The door buzzer startles her and she pulls on a bathrobe as she hurries to the monitor. There he is, on her door step, soaking wet and carrying a small bag. She flies down the stairs to let him in herself, to make sure he's real.

He is wet and more than a little drunk.

"I tried," he says, "to stay away. I wanted to keep you out of this but I can't do it without you. I need you."

Any anger is gone for now as she ushers him up the stairs to her flat.

"Let's get you dry," she says and their eyes meet.

The first time is desperate and short. Clothes are impatiently ripped and lips are bruised.

The second time is familiar and slow. She cries that she's missed him and all he can say is her name, like a prayer whispered into her ear.

Then they sleep, always touching.

Now they're pulling away from the intensity of the kiss on the balcony. And he has some explaining to do.


	3. Gratitude

"How did you know where to find me?" she asks.

He just stares at her, amused.

"Right," she says, a little embarrassed, "you're the point man." She waits a beat. "Well, what do you think of my new flat?" She cannot hide the touch of pride in her voice.

They are in her living room and he takes a minute to really study it. Ariadne has always cared more about the richness of texture and colour than order or matching. The flat is perfectly her. Then he notices the small touches. His books are mixed in with hers. Photos of them are tucked into corners on bookcases and shelves. On one wall he sees framed albums by Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr. and Dean Martin. He sees a chair has been upholstered in what looks to be the very fabric of a vintage YSL tie she'd given him for Christmas.

A lump forms in his throat.  _She kept me here. She really waited for me._

"It's, ah," he says, voice cracking, "perfect, Ariadne, absolutely perfect."

She sits back, pleased.

"Now," she says, "tell me just what in the holy hell is going on. And for fuck's sake, sit down. You're making me nervous."

He obeys but avoids the YSL chair.

"Do you want the short or long version?" he asks.

"I'm tired of not knowing, so hit me with the short version."

"I left you to take care of some loose ends. So we could really have a life without running. Then I ran into a shitstorm, went to my own personal hell, got better and came back to you."

She regards him for a moment.

"Right, I want the  _slightly_  longer version."

He sighs.

"Arthur, I know  _why_  you left. You were closing some of the shadier doors from your past. What happened after that, specifically two months ago, is what I want to know," she says.

He drops his head into his hands.

"The slightly longer version involves a door that didn't want to close. I, err, underestimated the strength of this guy's desire for revenge."

"This guy?" she asks.

"It would be easier if you could save the questions," he says. She nods her consent and he continues. "Somehow he got to me and pulled me right off a damn train. He knew about you. About us. And he put me under, way under," he says and trails off.

She glances down at the table beside him. He'd put his wallet, watch and (most importantly) his totem there last night. He reaches for its reassuring weight and she waits.

"Ariadne, he used you against me. It was fucking neverending. He'd kill you or rather, what looked like you, then shoot me and I would wake up in the same room. It would happen ten, twenty times and every time he would find a new way to use you. Sometimes I would wake up in a hospital bed and think it was all over. You would be there, smiling and holding my hand. Then you," he stops abruptly at her touch. He looks up.

"It wasn't me, please stop saying that, I can't bear it," she pleads. There are tears in her eyes.  _Have you ever been half of a whole?_

"I'm sorry," he says. He looks at her, silently asking if she wants him to go on. She nods.

"The projection or forgery or whatever she was would whisper horrible things, things that I've thought before - that I'm not good enough for you, that you really love Cobb, that you're afraid of me, that I don't deserve you. That sort of thing." He can't meet her gaze. "Then she would shoot me in the head and it would start over." He fingers the die for a moment. "I think I actually lost my mind. I have no idea how long I was under. It was like nothing I've ever been through."

He smiles a grim, frightening smile. "It took Cobb and Eames a very long time to convince me that I wasn't still dreaming."

"I am going to  _kill_  them for not telling me," she says. "After I say thanks for getting you, of course. Gratitude then murder."

"Don't you see?" he says, betraying the most emotion so far. "I couldn't see you. Not then. I think it would have killed me." He runs his hands through his hair and that gesture, for some inexplicable reason, nearly breaks her heart.

She steps forward and kneels in front of him. She smoothes his hair back and puts her hand on his face.

"I hope your rescue was suitably violent," she says and he bursts into laughter. His eyes crinkle in the way that makes her heart jump into her throat.

"Let's just say he's not going to be torturing anyone else for a very, very long time," he says. Her eyes widen.

"Eames didn't kill him, did he?" she asks, surprised. He frowns.

"How did you know that it was Eames who got me?" he asks. She shrugs.

"The kids. Cobb won't leave them," she says simply.

"Yes, well the inimitable Mr. Eames did me one better. He bribed and forged the guy into 8 consecutive life sentences in a very uncomfortable prison. His thugs, money and everything else have all been...reassigned," he says and the smile is genuine now. He clears his throat and holds her gaze. "He said it was an early wedding present."

She jerks her hands back.

"Wait, you're getting married? To Eames?" she says, half-joking and half-worried.

"No, to you if you'll have me. He said if I didn't, let's see if I can quote him correctly," Arthur shuts his eyes for a second. "He said that if I didn't 'tie your arse to mine' that I was 'a fucking moron and gobshite who really didn't deserve you'," he says, his eyes crinkling again.

She is blushing now. She chooses to ignore the half-assed marriage proposal for the moment.

"But," she says, frowning, "I don't understand what took you so long. You could have called or something, anything. I was worried sick."

He sighs again. "Ariadne, I went away to fix myself and ended up shattered. I didn't want you to have to fix me. Then I finally realized that I couldn't stay away and ended up here. The whiskey didn't hurt."

Her response is a smack to the back of his head. He laughs. Cobb was right. He may still be in pieces but without her, he would never be whole. He feels giddy from a weight lifted. He pulls her up into his lap and kisses her. She snuggles into him and he knows that nothing else will ever matter to him.

"So will you?" he asks after a few minutes.

"Will I what?" she asks, not bothering to move.

"Have me?"

She waits a moment.

"Well, I'd hate for Eames to think you're a gobshite," she says and his heart soars. She laughs and he picks her up. She laughs harder as he resolutely heads toward the bedroom.

"Why are you carrying me to the kitchen?"

"Navigational error, quickly rectified," he says and changes direction.

 _All this time_ , he thinks,  _all I needed was you._

He lays her down on the bed and all laughter stops. He wants to know, to reassure himself that every bit of her is real. He kisses her slowly and with decided care. Buttons are slowly undone and it feels like his hands are everywhere at once. She breathes him in and holds him in and vows never to let go.

Later, when she is sleeping next to him, he marvels at his monumental stupidity. He is still afraid to sleep but he can already feel her soothing wounds he thought untouchable. He pushes a strand of hair from her face and leans in to whisper. She stirs and sleepily asks if he is all right.

"Yes," he says, "all I wanted was to say I love you and I'm not afraid. Not anymore."

She smiles and pushes herself into his body. He wraps an arm around her and falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
